


All the Words

by theskywasblue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-06
Updated: 2010-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo doesn't need words</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Words

It wasn't really going to rain, Gojyo thought as he sat in bed, smoking his first cigarette of the morning and staring out across the backyard, where laundry hung on the clothesline, swaying hypnotically on the light breeze. The clouds weren't dark enough or hanging low enough in the sky for rain; they were just there to blot out the sun, hold in the previous day's stale heat, and make everything fucking miserable.

And okay, Gojyo hadn't exactly started off on the right side of the bed anyway - waking up alone could do that to a guy, particularly when it wasn't expected. He'd had all these ideas in his head tumbling into sleep the night before – or had it been obscenely early in the morning? – ideas of waking up wrapped around a warm body, savouring the sight of skin by sunlight...

Not just any warm body; he had woken up next to plenty of anonymous ones in 20 years. No, he had planned – counted on, even – waking up to _Hakkai's_ warm body.

Idiot.

Gojyo ground out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table and hauled himself out of bed, ignoring the lingering stretched, full feeling that made it hard to walk, made his balls tingle with the memory of pleasure. He sort of wished now that the whole thing had hurt more, instead of still feeling so damned good that he wanted to do it again as soon as possible.

He stepped right into the shower after turning it on, under the cold spray, felt his skin break out in goose bumps, holding back the hiss of almost-pain that threatened to slip through his teeth until the water warmed. A shower was usually good for clearing his head, the drone of the water on his skin forcing out all thought, but it didn't work this time; all his body wanted to think about was that weird, vacant sensation, until Gojyo was touching himself with a soapy finger, easing it past the ring of muscle.

And finally, it ached, but not the way Gojyo had hoped. It just made him want to push his finger deeper, forcing his feet apart on the shower floor - and fuck, Hakkai's come was probably still inside him - the thought made Gojyo's guts churn, made his balls ache and his cock throb.

Gojyo ignored it, showering so fast he couldn't be sure that he got all the soap out of his hair.

There was a note on the kitchen table: _please bring the laundry in around noon_ in Hakkai's careful, exact handwriting. Pen-strokes made for blackboards, for careful comments on student papers; simple, matter of fact instructions. What else had Gojyo been expecting, really?

He had sworn to himself that nothing would change, that letting Hakkai fuck him would be nothing different than fucking some girl he met at the bar. He'd almost had himself convinced too.

Hakkai would probably balk at beer for breakfast, but Hakkai wasn't around to see it. Gojyo dropped himself on the sofa and picked up an old magazine, leafing through without any real interest. After wasting an hour or so, he soaked up the beer in his stomach with a bowlful of cold rice and soy sauce from last night's dinner.

And he thought about that note; that damned note without even so much as Hakkai's name at the bottom.

Noon felt like some kind of hurdle he had to overcome, if he could get past it, just bring in the laundry, packed in the wicker basket left next to the back door, and leave it as usual on the foot of the bed – the bed where he lay with Hakkai kneeling between his spread legs, stroking his cock and kissing across his chest, whispering _I want to be inside you Gojyo, please..._ and Gojyo had answered _yeah, okay_ without really thinking – he was sure that he would hit an easy slope back to normal and be able to forget about everything; forget that for a little while he'd not only let himself be completely vulnerable, but he'd let himself believe that it was okay.

Still, it was almost one before he managed to get himself up off the sofa. Outside, the air was heavy and the wind had died off, leaving everything perfectly still as Gojyo began un-tacking shirts from the line, his and Hakkai's intermingled. He put his whole focus into the simple movements, just like he was practicing the old katas his brother taught him years ago, on Banri's cheap wrestling moves. He didn't even turn when he heard the footsteps behind him, though his skin did prickle when he sensed Hakkai's presence, and the muscles in his back went rigid when a familiar pair of arms slid casually around his waist.

"Gojyo?" Fingertips set to feather against his stomach hesitated, barely touching. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Gojyo answered - agreement so automatic it didn't even really feel like lying.

Hakkai didn't step back, didn't let go; Gojyo wished he would – there was still a shirt hanging on the line.

"You told me," he said finally, shifting a little in Hakkai's embrace, "to bring in the wash."

Hakkai let go. Gojyo pulled the shirt down off the line without releasing the pins first, making the line snap back with a distant _twang_. When he turned to go back to the house, Hakkai must have seen everything on his face, because he was suddenly right there, right against Gojyo, crushing the laundry basket between their bodies, warm hands on his cheeks, looking so deep into his eyes that Gojyo could feel it against the back of his skull.

"I had to go to the temple this morning – for Goku's lessons. Did you forget?"

Relief was like a kick to the gut. Fuck, sometimes he really was such an idiot; it was so easy to believe that everything would fall apart if he wasn't careful enough, easy to believe that he had to settle for the things he didn't want.

Gojyo felt his face splitting into a grin that he probably couldn't have stopped even if he had thought to try. "Yeah well, you can't really blame a guy, can you? Not after last night..."

And then Hakkai was kissing him, slow and deep, his tongue a warm caress against Gojyo's own, sweetened with green tea and something that might have been mandarins, and oh God, Gojyo didn't want him to stop _ever_.

Of course he did stop, but only to murmur, "Let's go inside," and Gojyo thought it was the best idea he'd ever heard. He stumbled through the back door into the kitchen, still clinging to the laundry basket like it was a raft in a storm, his head in a million places at once.

"Leave it," Hakkai said, gently tugging his arm and Gojyo dropped the basket like it burned his palms, only to trip over it as he kept going forward, spilling clean shirts across the floor.

"Shit, sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Hakkai waved it off, steadying Gojyo with one hand on his hip and one tangled in the front of his shirt, "the floor is clean."

Gojyo laughed, slipping on a sock, catching himself on Hakkai's shoulders following his lead back towards the bedroom. It would be easier to navigate if Hakkai would stop kissing him, but then, of course, he'd have to stop and breathe, possibly even think.

"I see you didn't make the bed."

"Guess I knew we'd be using it again soon." Gojyo tossed his shirt onto the floor, kicked off his jeans. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears and his skin was so sensitive that the brush of rumpled sheets against his back made him break out in goose bumps.

"How astute," Hakkai's fingers were trembling as he undid the clasps on his shirt, but had steadied by the time he got to his pants. As soon as they were out of the way, Gojyo grabbed his wrist and pulled him down onto the bed.

"No more big words, okay?"

"Astute isn't even three syllables," Hakkai protested. Gojyo silenced him with a hand on his cock, savouring the warmth of silky skin against his rough palm.

"You're only allowed one at a time."

"Your name has two syllables," Hakkai mumbled against his lips, fingertips skating down the seam of Gojyo's hip so that the muscles in his thighs trembled.

"Okay, you can have that one."

Hakkai wanted a lot more than that, and Gojyo was more than willing to let him have every bit, even when slick fingers rubbed over his tender asshole.

"Too sore?" Hakkai asked, tongue curling around Gojyo's earlobe, making him stretch his neck out, bearing every inch of skin.

"Nah man, go on, I can take it."

Hakkai hesitated, almost like he was thinking of calling Gojyo's bluff, but then he pushed two fingers in, easy and aching and perfect. It took only three slow thrusts for everything to melt into pleasure, steady pulses in time with his heartbeat up from his balls through his stomach and into his chest. Gojyo pushed a hand through his own hair, pinning it to the pillow, arched his back and gulped air deep into his lungs.

"Oh fuck, Hakkai."

"Yes," was all Hakkai managed, teeth and tongue against the tendons in Gojyo's neck, lube-slick fingers leaving a long line on the underside of Gojyo's thigh as he pushed Gojyo's leg up and back, opening him to the blinding push of Hakkai's cock. "So good."

Hakkai looked like his pupils had exploded, his eyes endlessly black with only a tiny ring of colour around the outside. His lips were parted, swollen and wet from their eager kisses, and the flush of pleasure was dark across his chest and all the way up to his cheeks. Gojyo struggled to keep his eyes open so he could see it all.

"Yeah Hakkai, c'mon..." he pressed a hand to the back of Hakkai's neck to hold him in place, wrapped the other one around his own cock, not sure if he wanted to come, or hold off coming forever. Then Hakkai pushed deep inside him, hit just the right angle, and that touch on his cock was too much, too good for him to do anything but come.

"You thought I had left," Hakkai said softly, afterwards, as they lay with their legs tangled and the sheets pulled awkwardly around them. Straggling rays of sunlight were starting to push through the clouds outside the window, glinting off the white paint of the windowsill.

"Well," Gojyo cleared his throat, looked sideways, wanting a cigarette; but his pack was in the pocket of his jeans somewhere on the floor, and he didn't want to move too far. "You can't blame a guy..."

"Certainly not," Hakkai's fingers smoothed along his collarbone, and Gojyo thought he would say something reassuring, or at least try to, but there weren't any words.

Which was just as well, Gojyo didn't need them.

-End-


End file.
